


Baby, It's Cold Outside

by disney_rox_my_sox



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Sweet, caboose has troubles with coffee names, like cotton candy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 01:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4501956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disney_rox_my_sox/pseuds/disney_rox_my_sox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Church and Caboose decide to go ice skating in the park. Church loses a glove, and Caboose can solve any problem.</p><p>Honestly, this is just a random, feel good fluff piece. That's it. Like every other Churboose fic I write.</p><p>No smut, though. Sorry, kiddies. Maybe next time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby, It's Cold Outside

**Author's Note:**

> I drink hot chocolate, so I know nothing of actually coffee names... Just saying.
> 
> Also, I own nothing but the plot (shout out to thejokeristhethief for the lost mitten = hand-holding prompt, though I tweaked it a little), the events of the universe that I created, and the writing which portrays my babies therein.
> 
> ENJOY!!!!!

“Hey, Church!”

Church didn’t even bother pretending to sigh at being interrupted. Within the first ten days of having moved next door to the tall, over-eager blonde currently beaming at him from his position in front of him, Church had learned that Caboose was bound and determined to make this whole ‘friends’ thing work. Church hadn’t quite understood the guy’s stubborn ability to seemingly ignore and/or just completely fucking miss the bitter sarcasm that the older brunette had used in lieu of actual conversation upon their first couple of chance meetings. The happy goof had just kept on ambushing him in their hallway with companionable chatter, impromptu invitations to hang out or go to the movies, etc., and (in one embarrassingly memorable instance) offer him some brownies he was making - which the oaf had forgotten in the oven with the temperature way too high, resulting in a small kitchen blaze that required an evacuation of the building and a fire crew to show up.

Church just shook his head, his grey-green eyes staring at the force of nature in front of him. And that’s what he was, really. Caboose may look like he hadn’t a clue in the world (and being honest with himself, Church knew he often didn’t) with his giant frame, floppy blonde curls and wide, expressive baby blue eyes. He may have all the grace of a bull in a china shop - except when playing sports, which Church just could not wrap his head around that contradiction. However, the endearingly naive innocent had somehow or other managed to cajole, persuade, and otherwise annoy a begrudging affection from Church. Without any real explanation as to how it happened, Church had found himself calling the goof his friend in just a matter of a few short weeks. For someone who admitted quite publicly and very often, that most people were fucktards who couldn’t get their heads out of their asses, he was puzzled by his own fond attachment to the blonde.

Still, unable to deny that it was there, Church merely shifted the brown paper bag of groceries he was holding into his other arm so he could reach his keys, and called a greeting back. “What’s up, buddy?”

Caboose’s massively broad shoulders scrunched up in pleasure as they always did when the brunette called him ‘buddy.’ His mega-watt smile widened even more as he practically chirped out his plan. “Do want to hang out with me, Church? You could come over and watch a movie? Or we could go outside and build a snow fort? Or we could head down to the park and go ice skating? Do you know how to ice skate, Church? My dad taught me how when I was really young, so I am really good at it, Church. If you do not know how to ice skate Church, I could teach you!”

The brunette listened with half an ear as he maneuvered around his friend’s ever-growing excitement and let himself into his apartment. He left the door open so Caboose could follow him inside, chatting the entire time about how his dad would fill their kiddie pool with a couple inches of water from the garden hose to make a small rink in their backyard so Caboose could practice and get good before trying to skate at the big public arena. Church nodded along as he started to put his groceries away, not surprised when Caboose, still talking a mile a minute, began to help him unload.

Caboose was good that way. In fact, he was just good, period. When someone needed a hand, Caboose was always there to lend one. He didn’t ask if he could help. He didn’t ask if there was anything he could do. He just did it. There appeared to be no thought put into the matter. It was a seemingly unconscious habit on the part of the blonde. And, to Caboose’s mind, this automatically made him friends with whomever he was helping. Church really admired that genuine goodness. It was something he didn’t really have in himself anymore. He was too cynical, too jaded. But, he liked to think Caboose was helping him be better. He sometimes thought, if he was around Caboose enough, he could absorb some of that goodness. Well, he was trying anyway, and that had to be good enough for now.

Finished with the groceries, the brunette smiled at his friend. “You know what?”

Caboose stopped chatting, tilting his head sideways in a gesture that made Church think of a curious, attentive puppy. “What, Church?”

“Let’s go ice skating. It’s been awhile for me, but it’ll be fun.”

The blonde let out a big whoop of excitement as he pumped his fist in the air. “This. Will. Be. AWESOME!” The thrilled man exclaimed. His exuberance sobered instantly, and Church found the abruptly serious expression comical. “And do not worry, Church. If you are wobbly, you can hang on to me. I will help you and make sure you do not fall.”

Chuckling, he said. “Alright buddy, I’m counting on you.”

Church watched Caboose smile giddily once more as he darted into the hallway and to his own apartment, yelling over his shoulder that he would be right back once he got his scarf and gloves and jacket, and to not leave without him. Church rolled his eyes, assuring the blonde he wouldn’t, before he collected his own mittens and keys from where he had deposited them on the counter beside the grocery bag. Since he still had his coat on anyway, with his wallet in his pocket, he simply turned off the light, leaving on the one over the stove, and locked up behind him.

Caboose bounded up to him with all the energy of a Labrador, pulling on his arm to get him to the elevator faster. He had a black coat on over his previous attire of jeans and sweater. His winter things were hand-knit, navy blue wool. The gloves covering his large hands where they tugged at Church’s arm matched the scarf wrapped around the taller man’s throat and the toque that allowed only wisps of flaxen curls to escape under the elastic-banded rim.

“Hey, Caboose?” Church started as they reached the elevator and waited for the doors to open. “Don’t you think you’re going to be a little warm in all that? It’s still only November; it’s just barely at freezing temperature right now.”

The blonde hummed happily when the ding signalled the elevator doors open. He stepped inside, pulling Church with him, and pressed the button for the ground floor. “Do not worry, Church. I will not be too warm. Are you sure you do not want to go back up to your place to get your toque and scarf?” He questioned back.

And although Church could see Caboose was chomping at the bit to get going, he was also eagerly willing to delay their outing so Church could be properly dressed. Church smiled wryly as he intoned, “I’ll manage.”

Stepping out into the nippy air outside, Church gave a brief thought to reconsidering his decision. It felt a bit cooler than he thought it should. Reasoning that he would warm up once they were skating, he merely flipped the collar up on his own black coat against the chill and headed for the park. Caboose trailed along beside him, grinning at the Christmas decorations hanging from the street lights and talking about the grand parade his hometown put on every year for the holidays.

“... and they have a hot chocolate stand right outside the grocery store so you can have some while you watch the floats go by. Hey, Church? Do you want to get something hot to drink before we go skating?”

Since Church was feeling colder than he thought he would (it’s fucking cold out and he’s from Texas, okay!), he nodded his head and steered them towards the coffee shop near the park’s gates. They still had a good ten minutes before the cafe closed for the evening.

Once inside the warm atmosphere of the caffeine scented air, Church paused at the side of the door, ostensibly to shake any non-existent snow from his jacket. In all actuality he just didn’t want to go up to the counter to order with his teeth still chattering. To buy a little more time for his warmth to return, he turned to Caboose and asked - in a voice muffled by his collar to hide his chill - “What’re you gettin’?”

Caboose beamed brightly at him. “I know exactly what I want! A Venison Pumpkin-spiced Late Night Capallano!”

Church froze with his head bent, hands paused in their efforts at patting down his coat to warm his torso. One dark brow arched slowly upwards until it disappeared under the brunette bangs on his forehead. His lips twitched at the corner slightly, and he had to quickly bite the inside of his cheek to suppress the full-on grin trying to break free at the jumbled nonsense his companion had uttered. Schooling his voice and features lest Caboose think he was being mocked, Church asked. “A what, exactly?”

“Oh, wait! No, that was not right.” The blonde hummed thoughtfully in his throat, a perplexed look scrunching his nose adorably. “I remember now! Silly me. It is called a Venn Diagram Pumpkin-spiced Latitude Capringo.”

Church couldn’t help it. He lost it. He lost it so fucking hard. He burst out laughing in loud guffaws. One hand went to Caboose’s arm to brace himself, while the other wrapped around his trembling stomach as he bent over in uproarious mirth. He took one fleeting look at Caboose’s face, hoping to god his laughter was not upsetting the big softie at his side. When he saw the slightly puzzled yet increasingly bemused expression there, Church let go of the worry until the last vestiges of his amusement had finally trickled out of him, leaving him with aching cheeks, watering eyes, and spasming abs.

“Oh, god!” He took a deep inhale to catch his breath and straightened up. He didn’t really realise he was leaning into the broad shoulder at his side, but his stomach muscles were still kind of twinging from laughing so hard, and he needed a moment of support. “Sorry, buddy… that was just… too funny!”

Caboose shrugged his other shoulder, making sure to not jostle the man leaning on him. “It is okay. These weird names are always so hard to remember. Plus, I got it from Donut. We went out, and he ordered one, and I tried a sip, and I liked it, so I asked what it was, and he said it was a something or other, but I couldn’t really understand what he said, and I thought he was just making up words...” He followed his long-winded explanation with another unconcerned shrug.

Pulling away and heading to the disinterested teenage girl waiting to take their order behind the cash register, Church patted Caboose’s back. “It’s alright buddy. I got you. I have a pretty good idea what you’re talking about, and since I know it was Donut who got this drink, I’m only more sure I can guess what his taste in artsy coffee would be.”

He turned his attention to the barista. “I’ll have one venti pumpkin-spiced latte cappuccino and one venti mocha latte.” He turned to Caboose in question, receiving his astonished gasp of agreement and vigorous head nodding. He turned back to the girl, ignoring the prods to his back and the whispered ‘that is exactly right Church! You are so smart’ that he got. He pulled off one glove so he could reach into his pocket and extract his wallet. “That’ll be in to-go cups please.”

The teenage clerk sighed heavily as she rang the orders through. She accepted the bill Church handed her and painstakingly doled out his change. Then she asked for his and Caboose’s names. She did show a slight pause, and a modicum of surprise actually managed to alter her otherwise bored facial expression, when she was told to write down Caboose as the name on one of the cups. Then she turned to the next set of customers who suddenly bustled in, and Church and Caboose walked down to the other end of the counter to await their drinks.

When their orders were called, the two men stepped forward to grab their cups. Church was thankful as the heat permeated through the styrofoam container and warmed the flesh of his hand. Thinking something was off, he was about to puzzle what it could be when he was distracted by a dejected puff of air at his side. 

“They always spell my name wrong at these places. There is only one ‘O’ at the end. C-A-B-O-S-E. Silly coffee people.” A disappointed shake of blonde hair accompanied the statement.

Church couldn’t really tell if his friend was trying to be funny… then again, knowing him, misspelling his own name is highly likely. The brunette decided the best course of action was distraction. “Let’s take our drinks and head to the ice rink, Caboose.”

And the moment was forgotten as both men walked out of the coffee shop and into the increasingly brisk evening air. They were thankful for the added comfort of their beverages as the warm liquid slid down their throats.

They were chatting - or, Caboose was chatting and Church listened to the rapid, disjointed rambling that his blonde friend was wont to do - as they drank their coffees and walked along the cement path in the park that led to the outdoor rink. Church spotted a garbage can nearby and veered over to it. Caboose trailed at his side like a loyal pup. Taking the last gulp from his cup, the brunette dumped the empty container into the trash can. He hoped to fucking hell that the warmth he had gained from the steaming beverage would actually linger for a while in his stomach. Caboose, too, was attempting to chug down the last of his drink while there was still a garbage can right in front of him, so Church took the time to retrieve his glove from his pocket, now that he no longer had the drink to heat his uncovered hand.

Or, at least he would have retrieved his glove if he could find the stupid thing. He checked his left pocket - there was just his wallet and keys. He checked his right pocket - dryer lint. He even tried all four pockets of his jeans, and all he got for his frantic search was a receipt for the groceries earlier and the spare change the barista returned to him. The barista ... The coffee shop!

“Are you okay, Church?” Caboose questioned, breaking into his revelation.

“Ya, I’m peachy. Listen,” he said, turning to Caboose. “I took my glove off at the coffee shop to get my wallet out. I put my wallet back in my pocket, but I forget to pick my glove back up. It must still be on the counter there.” He finished with a growl.

Caboose gasped. “Is your hand okay, Church? You are not going to get frostbite are you?”

The brunette turned around and started heading back down the path they came from. He was walking at a faster clip than the meandering pace the two friends had used coming down, but that was because Church wanted to get to the coffee shop before everyone was gone. He knew the shop would be closed, but he hoped at least one staff member would still be there cleaning up.

Caboose, who had much longer legs than his shorter friend, had no trouble keeping up. Church half ignored his worried prattling - for fuck’s sake, he was not going to get hypothermia, nor pneumonia, from missing one glove. He grumbled as much to Caboose, trying not to sound too surly. He was pissed at himself for forgetting, and his hand was feeling uncomfortably cold (even with it jammed in his pocket); this did not mean that he should take it out on a worried Caboose.

The blonde was automatically assured and then continued to follow his friend in silence. They got to the front gate of the park where the coffee shop was located, only to see the lights darkened. Church rushed up to the glass front door and peered inside.

“Fuck! Hello?” He called through the glass. He felt like a moron, with his face pressed up against the cool pane, but he was hoping that maybe someone was in the back.

“I think they are closed.” Offered Caboose.

“Well, no shit.” Church said. There was no real hostility in his voice, but there was a definite eye roll that accompanied the dry reply.

“Hey Church! Good news! I think I found your glove!” The blonde cried ecstatically, his hands tugging excitedly on his friend’s arm. He, too, was peering into the glass, and he pointed at the counter by the till. “That black one right there. I think that is yours!”

“I see it, Caboose. I know it is mine. But it is in there, and we are out here. Behind the locked door. With no one to let us in.” Church explained slowly. “How is that good news?”

Caboose tilted his head towards Church, smiling winningly at the frustrated brunette. His tone was simple as he explained, as though all questions had been answered and the dilemma easily solved. “Because we found it. Your glove is not lost anymore, Church. We know right where it is!”

Church took a deep breath, then just let it out in a disbelieving huff. “The problem was never where my glove WAS, Caboose. The problem is that I’m not wearing it, and my hand is starting to get really fucking cold!”

A thoughtful expression crossed the blonde’s face. He looked over at Church’s uncovered hand, where the skin was already reddening from the chilly wind and freezing temperature. Then his face relaxed and he smiled easily again. “That is not a problem, Church. I can solve that.”

Before the brunette could actually lose it on his well-meaning friend, Caboose took off his own glove. He reached over and grabbed the shorter man’s wrist with his much larger hands and placed the navy knitted mitt over the chilled skin. Then Caboose wrapped his long, warm fingers snugly around Church’s newly gloved hand and placed their joined hands in the pocket of his own coat. The action done, Caboose smiled heartily down at the stunned expression Church was giving him.

Church was astonished. He felt a hot blush of pleasure start to seep into his cheeks. He felt sure this new warmth was coming right from where Caboose’s hand was grasping his. Even through the wool, Church could feel the heat that emanated off the younger man’s palm. It encompassed his whole hand and chased away the chill from his skin. He could feel the pressure of it all the way up his arm where it bloomed in his chest, causing him to feel his blood rushing all throughout him.

“See, Church. No problem.” Caboose looked slightly saddened for a moment. “But we cannot really ice skate with our hands in my pocket. So I guess we will just have to go home for tonight.” His mood suddenly brightened again, just as sunnily as before. “But maybe tomorrow we can go ice skating. We can come back here and get your glove in the morning. And then we can go to the rink! We can, right, Church?!”

Church was still kind of reeling from the little explosions of heat making their way through his body, so he just gave a stilted little nod of his head. He did manage to choke out a breathy, “Ya, sure, Caboose.”

His reply seemed more than enough to satisfy the blonde, as the taller man started to tug them along on their way back to their apartment building. He chatted just as excitedly as he had on their journey home as he had on their excursion out. Church got the feeling that holding his hand was not a big deal for Caboose. He was able to talk about anything and everything that came into his mind, just as always. He appeared to be completely unaffected by their closeness. Church himself was freaking the fuck out - but in a good way … he thought. The only problem he could see was that Caboose wasn’t reacting in the same way.

Which kind of fucking sucked. Because Caboose was hot. Church had always thought so. It was just that the big oaf had seemed so … excitable. Church didn’t really think the blonde was his type. Until he got to know him. Until he just now realised how stable, and sturdy and reliable Caboose was - even when he was bubbling like a bunny with ADHD.

Church was so lost in thought, he did not notice how much quieter Caboose was becoming the closer they got to their building. His footsteps had slowed, getting shorter. His hand pulled tighter on the one in his pocket. They were only a half of a block from home when Caboose took a big, bracing breath and stopped dead in his tracks.

Pulled up short, Church turned his full attention to the man beside him, who appeared to have just gathered up the courage to say something - if the look of determination on the blonde’s flushed face was anything to go by. “Churchistheiranythingelsethatiscoldonyou?”

“Umm … huh?”

Caboose took another deep breath. And another. Church was a little distracted by the expanding muscles of the broad chest in front of him. When that chest got much closer, the brunette looked up to see that Caboose had stepped right up to him, so near that he felt the heat of the taller man’s furnace-like body all over his front. Much more slowly he said. “Are you cold anywhere else, Church?”

Church took a moment to gaze into the sapphire eyes staring down at him. They held a look of apprehension, but slight hope, as well. Maybe Caboose wasn’t as unaffected by their closeness as Church had thought. Still, wanting to be sure, he thought of an answer that would give both of them an out. Should their signals be crossed, he needed a reply that could be suggestive of his own wants, but could still be construed as innocent friendship if Caboose wasn’t interested.

“Now that you mention it,” he started. “My ears are a little cold.”

Caboose took another of those chest-expanding inhales before he moved. He released Church’s hand, leaving it in his pocket alone. Before Church could feel disappointed at the withdrawal though, Caboose placed both his hands on Church’s head, one palm cupping each cheek as those long fingers wrapped gently around the shells of his chilled ears. The uncovered hand felt extremely warm against his flesh.

“Are you okay now, Church?” Caboose whispered quietly.

“My nose is also frozen.” Church breathed back.

A warm shy smile slowly spread over Caboose’s dimpled cheeks as he realized what Church was doing. “That is not a problem, Church. I can solve that.” He said, just before he leaned down and pressed his lips to the tip of the brunette’s nose.

Church let out a little gasp. He got it by now that Caboose was warm, but he had never expected that a pair of lips could carry such silky heat. He protested when Caboose pulled back up to his full height, staring with joy and amusement at the face below his.

“Are you okay now, Church?” He teasingly asked again.

“My lips are cold.” The older man deadpanned, but there was a definite mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “I think I can feel them turning blue.”

Caboose leaned his head down, until their noses were touching. “That is not a problem, Church. I can solve that.” He whispered across Church’s lips before he settled their mouths together in a sliding, exploring kiss. Church let his tongue flick out to taste the warm breath on his lips. Upon receiving Caboose’s gasp, Church slipped his tongue inside the other’s mouth to massage pleasured little whimpers from the blonde’s throat. They finally pulled away, panting hard.

“I think you were right, Church.” Caboose said with still-laboured breath. “I am a little too warm out here with all of this on.”

Church smiled, pulling the man’s hands away from his face and grasping their palms together. He tugged Caboose along with him, starting the rest of the way home. There was a distinctly heated smirk in his voice when he looked back at a grinning Caboose and said. “That is not a problem, Caboose. I can solve that.”


End file.
